Car poems
/ page 478 of 738 /On Planting A Tree At Inveraray
© James Russell Lowell
Who does his duty is a question
Too complex to be solved by me,
But he, I venture the suggestion,
Does part of his that plants a tree.
The Borough. Letter II: The Church
© George Crabbe
"WHAT is a Church?"--Let Truth and Reason speak,
They would reply, "The faithful, pure, and meek;
The Games We Used To Play
© George Ade
I long and sigh for the days gone by,
I pine for the rustic charm
Of the dear old games, the queer old games
We played down on the farm.
Ode
© Benjamin Jonson
To the Immortal Memory and Friendship of that Noble Pair, Sir Lucius
Cary and Sir Henry Morison.
To my honoured Friend Mr. George Sandys
© Henry King
It is, Sir, a confest intrusion here
That I before your labours do appear,
Which no loud Herald need, that may proclaim
Or seek acceptance, but the Authors fame.
A Friend
© Edgar Albert Guest
A friend is one who stands to share
Your every touch of grief and care.
He comes by chance, but stays by choice;
Your praises he is quick to voice.
Cadyow Castle
© Sir Walter Scott
When princely Hamilton's abode
Ennobled Cadyow's Gothic towers,
The song went round, the goblet flow'd,,
And revel sped the laughing hours.
The Old Stockman's Lament
© Henry Lawson
Wrap me up in me stockwhip and blanket,
And bury me deep down below,
Requiem
© Anna Akhmatova
Not under foreign skies
Nor under foreign wings protected -
I shared all this with my own people
There, where misfortune had abandoned us.
[1961]
Piedra de sol
© Octavio Paz
a la salida de mi frente busco,
busco sin encontrar, busco un instante,
un rostro de relámpago y tormenta
corriendo entre los árboles nocturnos,
rostro de lluvia en un jardín a obscuras,
agua tenaz que fluye a mi costado,
The Wedding Day
© Alaric Alexander Watts
The last! the last! the last!
Oh, by that little word,
How many thoughts are stirred! ~ CAROLINE SOUTHEY.
The Fan : A Poem. Book III.
© John Gay
Learn hence, ye wives; bid vain suspicion cease,
Lose not in sulien discontent your peace.
For when fierce love to jealousy ferments,
A thousand doubts and fears the soul invents,
No more the days in pleasing converse flow,
And nights no more their soft endearments know.
Julia, or the Convent of St. Claire
© Amelia Opie
Stranger, that massy, mouldering pile,
Whose ivied ruins load the ground,
Reechoed once to pious strains
By holy sisters breathed around.
On A Proposed Trip South
© William Carlos Williams
They tell me on the morrow I must leave
This winter eyrie for a southern flight
And truth to tell I tremble with delight
At thought of such unheralded reprieve.
Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part III.
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
The great farm house of Malcolm Graem stood
Square shoulder'd and peak roof'd upon a hill,
The Bride
© Ambrose Bierce
YOU know, my friends, with what a brave carouse
I made a second marriage in my house,
Divorced old barren Reason from my bed
And took the Daughter of the Vine to spouse.
Being Dad On Christmas Eve
© Edgar Albert Guest
They've hung their stockings up with care,
And I am in my old arm chair,
Amelia Jane
© David McKee Wright
In the lands away beyond the sea, where Khan and Sultan rule,
Where they drink their coffee thick and black, and sip the sherbet cool,
They have white Circassian girls for slaves, as well as the Negro black;
And it seems to me in our free land that slavery's coming back:
It's fenced about with custom and law, and they give it a prettier name.
But, spite of the paltry wage that's paid, it's slavery all the same.
"There Is Dew For The Flow'ret"
© Thomas Hood
There is dew for the flow'ret
And honey for the bee,
And bowers for the wild bird,
And love for you and me.